


First Night

by yungidreamer



Series: My Precious Pet [3]
Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: 18th Century, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Bathing/Washing, Blood Drinking, F/M, Fancy Dress, Historical, Intense, Loss of Virginity, Makeover, Mild Blood, Nobility, Oral Sex, Pampering, Passion, Vampire Bites, Vampire Sex, Vampires, Wedding Night, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:55:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27176182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yungidreamer/pseuds/yungidreamer
Summary: After the wedding is witnessed by all the party guests, Seonghwa spends their first night together claiming her body and soul.
Relationships: Park Seonghwa/Reader
Series: My Precious Pet [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1979509
Kudos: 27





	First Night

Relief flowed through her when she heard the door to her room click closed behind her after her clandestine meeting with Seonghwa. She hadn’t been caught but a tingle of fear still trickled down her spine. She scurried to her tiny room, lighting the candle on her vanity to have a better look at herself, sure that there must be something that would give her away. Her hand went to her throat, touching the pale pink marks, nearly unnoticeable, at least by candlelight. Snuffing out the candle, she undressed down to her shift and got into her bed. A heaviness suffused her limbs, and the blackness of exhaustion pulled her under and she slept. 

In the morning she was roused by the gentle hands of a servant who had come at the behest of His Grace. Her presence was required. She nodded groggily, sliding out of her small bed to dress and go where she was being called to. The maid curtsied to her with a smile, explaining that she need not worry about dressing completely, a banyan, if she owned one would be enough. She nodded, getting her shift, petticoat, stays, and morning gown on and pulling her hair into a quick braid before following the other woman wherever it was she was required.

They wound their way through the halls until they found themselves in a small bright room near the hostesses chambers on the second floor. She was greeted by an excitable man who happily pulled her into the center of the room and up onto a small stand. With nimble hands he removed her banyan, replacing it with a gown of white and purple satin. He pinched and pulled the pieces of the bodice until it lay perfectly then took it off her and handed it to the three women at the back of the room who immediately began to alter the gown to the new measurements. Their fingers worked quickly making tiny stitches along the lines where it needed to be taken in.

Her banyan was slipped back on her shoulders and tied around her before she was shepherded over to a woman who greeted her with a gracious curtsy before setting her on a stool and giving her an assessing look.

“My dear,” the slightly older woman spoke warmly to her. “He has asked that we not powder your hair so I believe we will need to wash your hair before we get started.”

“Alright, I can go—” she began to stand up, ready to head to her chamber to give her a quick wash and return.

“No, no my dear, please come with me,” the woman lifted her skirts and took her across the hall to the dressing chamber of Lady Umberland where a half bath was sat before the lit fireplace.

“Please change into this,” the woman said, passing her a thin linen chemise. “I will return shortly to help you wash.”

“I can wash myself,” she said, gripping the front of her banyan closed tightly. “I won’t take long either.”

“My dear, you have nothing to hide,” the woman tutted. “This will all go very quickly if you just let me do my work. Now, I will be back in a moment.”

She watched the woman leave the room before turning her back to the door and starting to strip. A bright blush bloomed across her cheek as she quickly changed into the nearly sheer chemise. She didn’t have to wait long until the woman returned and guided her to step into the tub and sit in the warm water that came up to her waist.

“Here, my dear,” the woman handed her a sponge and a small bar of soap. “Wash yourself and I will work on your hair.” Leaning forward, she wet the rest of her torso in the water before dipping the sponge in to moisten it to allow the soap to lather on its surface. With a quick efficiency, driven by her desire to be done with the situation as quickly as possible, she began to wash her body. Behind her the woman knelt down and began undoing her long braid and running a comb through her hair to remove any tangles that might be there.

“Lean your head back, my dear,” the woman instructed as she picked up a pitcher and dipped it into the water. She did as the woman asked, closing her eyes as the water was slowly poured on her hair, wetting it gently without dripping it on her face. The woman then reached into a small ceramic tub, dipping her fingers inside to pick up a small amount of the soft soap inside and massaging into the length of her locks. The soap gave off a strong scent of roses, making her think of a large summer garden, somewhere she wished she was instead.

Soon the woman was done and satisfied that she was clean, making her lean her head back again to allow her to rinse her hair clean. When she finally stood up, the sheer cloth clung to her curves, leaving little to the imagination. The woman kept her eyes from lingering, being discrete and professional as she dried her off as much as she could before giving her yet another light shift to change into. Rather than leaving, the woman merely offered her back while she quickly changed and put her petticoat, stays, and morning robe back on.

“Please come with me,” the woman nodded at her and opened the door to the hall, guiding her back into the room they had begun the morning in. She was sat down on the stool again as servants came back and forth bringing curling tongs and small bowls filled with coals to warm them. Her hair was still damp when the woman began her work, combing and pulling her hair into a complicated coif of pinned waves and curls decorated with a few ribbons tied around her head, more decoratively than functional. Three long corkscrew curls were left out in the back, showing the healthy length of her natural hair.

“Just a little something here,” the woman said brushing just a little bit of a pink paste on her lips to brighten the color. “Now my work is done and I leave you again in the hands of Monsieur Jardin.”

“Thank you,” she said, watching the woman as she set about packing up her things. Standing up, she made her way back across the room to where the gentleman, Monsieur Jardin she now assumed, seemed to be waiting for her.

“Welcome back,” he beamed. “Don’t you look radiant.”

“Thank you,” she replied, gripping her hands tightly in the folds of her morning dress.

“Ladies are you finished?” He asked, striding back to the group of ladies huddled around the dress. One of them said that they were indeed finished and handed the gown back to him. “Good, good,” he declared, looking over their work and finding it satisfactory. “Please bring me her skirts.”

The ladies stood up and pulled a folded length of white satin out of a bundle that had been lying on the floor near their seats. One of them unfolded it, shaking out the fabric to unfurl it and remove the lighter wrinkles in the fabric. Another one of them brought over a small, round bum roll, tucking it under her elbow as she stepped forward to help remove the banyan again. She let them remove it, leaving her in her shift, petticoat, and stays in the center of the room, eager to finally be dressed again. The lady passed the morning gown off to the last woman and began first slipping the bum roll around her waist then securing it with the ties around her waist. She then accepted a pair of white silk stockings, going down onto her knee before the future duchess.

“Your foot please,” the girl prompted with a friendly smile. Lifting the edge of her shift, she offered her one foot, bearing her leg to the knee. The girl pulled the smooth stockings up her leg before tying a garter around her just above her knee. She did the same on the other side, then stood up and retrieved a delicate pair of white slippers that she also slipped on her feet. The girl stood and offered a quick bow before walking away. The woman with the white satin petticoat, decorated with ruffles in the same white satin, stepped forward, raising the fabric up and over her head before securing it with the ties around her waist. The lady brushed the fabric out, smoothing it down nicely, checking the length. It flowed nicely, stopping just a few centimeters above the floor, holding itself in the shape of a bell of shimmering white. Finally the last woman stepped forward sliding the gown over her shoulders from behind before coming around to the front to lace up the under bodice. Her nimble fingers made quick work of the spiral lacing before laying the fine satin of the over bodice smoothly down and pinning it with small, delicate straight pins.

“Beautiful,” Monsieur Jardin declared, giving her clothing a few last tugs and brushes of his hand to make everything sat, just right. His look was assessing, like he was giving some sculpture or painting a final check for imperfections before passing it off to the patron who commissioned it. 

She felt like a doll, like some inanimate decorative object made for the pleasure of everyone else. No mirror was offered, no opinion asked. She was… possessed. A lump swelled in her throat as she stood there, under the eyes of everyone in the room. Certainly she looked beautiful, anyone would have in the finery that had been placed on her. It would have been enough to make a mannequin seem beautiful and alive. There seemed to be nothing of her left and no concern for her opinion.

_ Is this what it means to be a wife? His wife? _ She wondered to herself as her eyes dropped to her hands clasped nervously in front of her. In time, she told herself, she would get used to it, she would adjust. It was just different, it was a new her. Giving her head a shake, she pushed aside those thoughts. All choices required sacrifices, some just required more than others.

“Come along now,” Lady Umberland said as she appeared behind her. “Everyone is waiting for you in the ballroom.” She nodded and fell into step behind the woman as they strode down the hall and through the house to the candlelit ballroom. It did seem like everyone was there waiting for her, seated in a myriad of stools and chairs gathered from around the house. Even servants lined the wall along the back side, whispering and gawking. At the far end of the room stood the Reverend Norwich and Seonghwa, dressed in his finest clothes… a suit of matching purple and white.  _ Ah _ , she said in her head at the sight, the first hint of a smile teasing at the corner of her mouth.

He looked up when Lady Umberland entered the room, looking past her… looking for  _ her _ . She looked beautiful as he knew that she would, dressed in the finery and properly coiffed for the occasion. No one in attendance would forget this moment, including him. A look of slight fear and discomfort colored her features and he saw her force herself to take a breath and relax her nervous hands. He knew he was supposed to wait for her to cross the room, for her to come to him, but propriety be damned. Striding confidently across the room, he met her near the back of the rows of seats, taking her hand in his for a second before looping her arm in his and walking them both towards the front of the ballroom.

“Your hands are warm,” she commented quietly so that only he could hear her. Her words held an understanding of what that meant. He had fed.

“Do you mind?” He dipped closer to her to ask. She shook her head, sure that he had his reasons, but she couldn’t help wondering, on whom. He released her arm when they arrived at the front of the room, moving to stand across from her as they waited for the reverend to begin.

“Well, now that we are all here,” the Reverend Norwich said in a resonant voice that filled the room, the same one he used to fill the churches back home as he gave his sermons. “Let us give thanks to God for this day where we may have the honor of seeing two souls joined together under His love…”

Seonghwa sighed, biting his tongue  _ figuratively _ as the man droned on about love, and marriage, and about the biblical intentions for the institution. How he should love and guide her as Christ guides his church. How she should follow his guidance as the church follows the laws as God has decreed. He truly did not care. This was all for her sake, for the sake of protecting her with his status, his title, and to legally tell the world that she was his. 

_ To love, honor, and obey. _ The words hung in the air and he watched her as she nodded and quietly said  _ I do _ _. _ He didn’t want blind obedience and fought the curl of disgust that threatened to escape onto his lips. He wanted to offer her the freedom to walk with confidence into any room like she belonged there. The freedom of intellectual pursuits. The freedom to be who she was without explanation or apology. He did not doubt she would do her best to  _ honor _ him, whatever that meant for the two of them. And she was smart enough to listen to his wisdom and experience, but obey… the word prickled like a burr stuck under a saddle.

When the Reverend turned on him to ask if he would love and cherish her until death parted them. He gave a curt nod and said  _ Yes _ _ , _ clearly and loudly for the whole room to hear. Returning to his sermon, the Reverend filled the room with his voice, taking this one last chance to be at the center of all the attention before solemnly declaring them wed before the eyes of God and the State. Those in attendance clapped and Seonghwa’s hungry eyes fell to her lips. She looked up, leaning slightly towards him, her own eyes having fallen to his lips as a blush spread over her cheeks at the memories. It was all the invitation Seonghwa needed, his lips moved to hers as he held her face between his hands, angling it to allow him to kiss her with an eager ferocity. 

The clapping petered out and he pulled her against him deepening the kiss, not caring a whit about the dozens of eyes that were looking on at them. She was his and the world around them was a mere backdrop, the people as real and substantial to him as a ghost. When he finally pulled back, looking at her dazed, close-eye expression as he held her, he couldn’t help but feel a flair of hunger and pride.

“I do believe a Christening may follow in short order,” the Reverend joked, causing a ripple of laughter to dance across the room. 

Seonghwa released her from his tight hold, guiding both of them over to the table where the marriage license was spread out on the table. He picked up the quill and scrawled his signature on the paper before stepping aside and handing it to her to do the same. When she had signed he took her hand in his as he turned to the guests, giving them a small bow. “Dinner will be served in the dining room, but I am afraid we will not be joining you.” Her eyes widened, looking at him from where she stood beside him. “Please have our portions sent up to my chambers. We will be eating in private.”

Without another word, he leaned down and swept her into his arms, carrying her out of the room and up the stairs. He carried her like she weighed nothing, skipping up the stairs to his room with a light and nimble step. Once they were safely inside, he set her down and closed the door behind them, locking it and placing the key on a small table near the hearth.

For a moment, the room was silent and she would have sworn she could hear the sound of her heartbeat filling the stillness. For a beat, he merely looked at her from the short distance he had strode into the room to lay down the key, almost as if he was battling with himself, arguing over some decision. She broke the tension, taking a small step forward towards him, pushing him to move past whatever split decision had made him pause.

“Let me undress you,” he said softly, guiding her further into the center of the large room. The space was generous to say the least, compared to the small room she had been staying in. It was probably the second largest bedroom in the house, after those belonging to Lord and Lady Umberland. It was done in the chinoiserie style when it came into fashion perhaps forty years ago. It was decorated in shades of deep red, black, and glinting gold, with the walls behind the panels of exotic imagery made from rich, dark woods that shown with a near mirror-like finish. Each scene was framed in curving gold molding that made it feel a little like they were all little windows on a half real world just on the other side. 

She felt almost lost in the space. Along the outer wall, tall curtain covered windows stretched up nearly to the ceiling, segmenting the room into smaller spaces. A desk sat against the wall under the first window, made from black lacquer and decorated with glinting gold. In the space between that window and the next was a large wardrobe of a similar style. A matching vanity sat in the corner on the other side of the second set of windows. Near that, a seating area was set up around the hearth, which already had a steady and warm blaze going inside it. Sconces with many arms filled with lit candles were fastened in the spaces between all the panels around the room, just above head height. In the middle of the back wall was a large, imposing four poster bed, draped with curtains in a deep red that matched the carpeting and the upholstery.

The room almost seemed to glow from within. For the life of her she couldn’t help but wonder how she hadn’t taken all this in when she had visited him the night before. It was the same room, but she had been so focused on him that she had barely spared a glance for the space. Her attention was brought back to him as they paused in the well lit space before the hearth. His fingers brushed over the nearly invisible line of pins in the front of her gown, finding them and beginning to remove them.

“Did you ever see yourself?” Seonghwa asked, pausing in his work.

“No,” she admitted. “I suppose no one thought it mattered.”

“You look beautiful,” he told her as he turned her to admire herself in the mirror above the hearth. She could only see herself from the décolletage up, but as she could look down to see the dress itself on her, she supposed that was the bit which had largely eluded her. For a moment it didn’t feel like herself as she looked at the reflection. Her hair flowed around her face and down over her shoulder and back with an elegant grace she had never managed to do for herself. Her skin seemed to glow in contrast with the deep purple and vivid bright white of her dress. The light pink on her lips seemed to make her come alive, that small detail doing so much. She felt pretty, but still not quite herself.

“Do you like it?” He asked, searching her expression for some insight into her thoughts.

“Yes, but I don’t quite feel myself,” she admitted, breaking away from looking at herself. “It will just take some getting used to, that’s all.”

“What doesn’t feel like you?” He questioned, turning her face to his so he could look in her eyes.

“I’m far more plain than this,” she shrugged, dropping her gaze. “I’ve never been the elegant girl at the center of the party.”

“The moment I saw you,” he corrected her, taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger to angle her face back to his. “You became the sun at the center of my life. Perhaps you felt like a lonely star floating against the deep velvet blackness of the sky, but you are the brightest object in my view. You bring the brightness of morning and the heat of summer to my world.”

“You credit me with too much,” she murmured in return. “I am nothing so special or so significant.”

“The sun does not know the significance it has to us,” he sighed, cupping her cheek. “It simply shines for its own sake and the gifts it gives us, so vital to the lives on this planet, are incidental. You do not have to try to be more than you are. What you are is enough.”

She didn’t know what to say, still not feeling like enough, like a fraud soon to be caught for their inadequacy and yet having no answer for him. She wanted desperately to be the things he said and, though she knew she was not, could not help but want to have those few moments where she could pretend that she was. At least until he inevitably came to his senses. Those few, stolen moments might be enough.

Seonghwa easily read the disbelief on her face knowing that there was nothing he could say to convince her otherwise. In time she would understand; he would show her. Saying nothing, his hands returned to their work removing the layers of clothing that kept her from him. Sliding the pins out, he placed them in a small crystal vase on top of the hearth, caring more that they were safely somewhere neither of them would accidentally tread on them or otherwise harm themselves. When the flaps of the outer bodice were open, he turned her nimbly unlacing the spiral lacing that held it securely around her.

He moved with a patience that he did not feel, using the time it took to undress her to let her get used to, layer by layer, the intimacy of the moment, of the two of them… alone. Finally. Slowly undoing all the hard work of the tailor and his ladies, he stripped her down to her shift, nearly sheer in the fineness of its fabric. She shifted uncomfortably, hugging herself and looking down at the floor.

“Are you cold, my precious?” He asked, gently, guiding a curl back over her shoulder.

“No, no,” she rushed to assure him, forcing her arms down to her sides where her hands fisted in the gauzy fabric there.

“Are you afraid of me?” He questioned, putting his warm hand on the crook of her neck and shoulder.

“No,” she said automatically before sighing and clenching her jaw for a second. “Perhaps a little, but mostly I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

“Just let me guide you, my pet,” he soothed. “Take a deep breath and close your eyes.” She did as he bade letting out a long breath as she heard him move beside her. She jumped slightly when she felt his fingers brush against her thigh as he untied her stockings and slid them down her leg and off. Doing the same on the other side, she kept her eyes closed, trying not to let the cloud of butterflies in her stomach overwhelm her.

Seonghwa scooped her up and laid her on the large bed, making quick work of his clothes and leaving them in a messy pile in his eagerness to join her. He left himself in only his open linen shirt that hung down around his mid thighs, wanting to give her a few more moments of modesty this time. He crawled on the bed beside her, scooting her into the middle of the soft feather mattress before he stretched himself out beside her.

Her eyes were still squeezed shut as he gently laid a hand on her soft stomach, only covered by the sheer cloth of her shift. He couldn’t help but smile at her obvious nervousness and attempt to put on a brave face.

“My pet,” Seonghwa’s voice was barely above a whisper. “Would you like to wait another day? Another month?”

“I’m ready, really,” she insisted, her eyes opening and going wide as she shook her head.

“I can be a patient man,” he said with a smile. “Now that I have you, I can wait.”

“Is it…” she ventured nervously, putting her hand over his where it lay on her stomach. “Do you not need me because you’ve already fed?”

“What?” He blinked at her, not quite following her leap in logic.

“Do you not want me so much because you… got what you needed elsewhere?” Her fingers ran nervously over the back of his hand. For a moment his eyes searched hers wondering how she thought herself so replaceable.

“My precious, I fed because I wanted to be ready,” he guided her hand to rest on his hot, pulsing erection hidden behind the linen of his long shirt. “Tonight I will lie with you, my wife, if you desire it, and if I feed from you it will be only for the shared pleasure, not out of necessity.”

Lifting her head, she turned on her side to face him and moved her face towards his, brushing her lips gingerly over his. Seonghwa let her test and explore him with tentative touches, letting her come to him. He kept himself almost unnaturally still as she kissed him with a nervous curiosity, her hand resting on his muscular hip. She pulled back, brushing a dark lock of hair off his forehead.

“What do I call you now?” She asked, her eyes searching his face.

“Your devoted servant,” He said half in jest.

“No,” she giggled, feeling some of the tension melt away. “Your Grace?”

“Not here, not like this, though you may use my title in public if you wish,” He shrugged.

“Husband?” She tested next.

“Anytime,” he agreed, finding he liked the title more than he had guessed as it fell from her lips.

“Seonghwa,” His name came out somewhere between a breath and a prayer. He nodded and smiled, liking the sound of his name when she said it. 

“What about just Hwa?” She offered, stroking her thumb over his cheek.

“Say it again,” he asked as he pulled her closer, pressing her chest to his.

“Hwa,” She breathed against his lips and again as he kissed his way over her cheek and down her neck.

“That,” he whispered into her ear. “That is what I want to hear when I make you moan with pleasure. I want to know that it’s me and only me.” She nodded, letting her eyes drift closed as he held her, this time to enjoy the closeness rather than in fear of it. He held her close, losing himself for the moment in the warmth and the scent of her skin. His hand caressed over the soft skin of her chest where it was exposed above the neckline of her shift, so soft and smooth.

“How do I please you?” She asked, her hand lightly gripping his wrist as her eyes met the dark warm depths of his.

“Simply by existing,” He teased.

“No I mean,” she bit her lip as she searched for the right words. “How do I please you as a wife should, though perhaps also in the special way you need from a companion. Teach me to be good for you.”

“The first thing you will learn is that my greatest pleasure will come from pleasing you,” he told her as he rolled her onto her back. “May I see all of you?”

“Yes,” she nodded, lifting first her hips as he slid the fine fabric of the chemise up her body to remove it. When he had taken it off of her completely, he tossed it to the side but kept himself propped up on one hand beside her. Looking down at her, he ran an open palm over one of her breasts, abrading one pert nipple before giving the soft mound an assessing squeeze. She shivered and goosebumps raised over her skin.

“Cold?” He asked, wanting to be sure, though the room felt sufficiently warm to him.

“No but that feels good,” she replied, her fingers brushing over the fabric of his sleeve where it had fallen around his wrist.

“Good,” he stated, leaning down to brush his lips over her nipple. The skin was warm and soft as he brushed against it. He could smell the residue of the rosy soap on her skin and taste the slight tang of it as he sucked the pert bud into his mouth. She let out a brief gasp at the sensation, watching his mouth and throat work as if he was suckling from her. The sight sent an odd, heavy tingling sensation to the pit of her stomach.

Seonghwa let his fangs break the surface of her skin and looked up to read her reaction. Pleasure slackened the features of her face as her eyes closed and she threw her head back. She breathed his name as he sucked, getting the faintest hint of blood. Licking the pricks closed, he moved lower, sucking a little flesh from her stomach into his mouth and biting enough to break the skin. She moaned and squirmed beneath him as his hands held her tightly in his grip. He bit only so hard and only enough to send waves of pleasure coursing through her. Leaving a little trail of nips as he went, he made his way down her body until he was positioned with his face pressed against the inside of one of her thighs.

“What are you doing?” She asked breathlessly.

“Tasting you,” he said with an enigmatic grin. Keeping eye contact with her, he used the tip of his tongue to lick up the slick slit of her body. Her body arched at the sensation, a curl of pleasure being sent through her without even a bite.  _ At least I still remember how to do this _ , he thought to himself as he used his strong hands to hold her body still for him. He wanted that faint, dim spark of humanity still inside him to glow for her, to give off some life and some hope of him being more than just an animated corpse.

Sliding his tongue inside her folds he found that small bud, capable of giving her so much pleasure. The warmth of her blood was just below that thin membrane of skin, so close as it teased his hunger. Ignoring his own desires, he moved his tongue through her folds. She tasted delicious, so human and so warm as her thighs fought his grip that was keeping them open.

“Hwa, I feel strange,” she whined, her hands gripping the covers beneath her.

“Don’t fight it,” he soothed, spreading her thighs wider, nearly pressing her knees to the bed. “Let me please you. Let go for me.” She nodded and looked down at him, wanting to see what he was doing to her. He fastened his lips around her clit and sucked, sending a sharp spike of sensation through her. She panted his name as he moved his mouth lower, delving his tongue inside her tight entrance. His nose brushed the nub of her clit as he licked and lavished the slick entrance to her body. She was so close, he could smell the pleasure radiating off her body as the muscles of her inner thighs fought against his grip.

A confusing rush of sensations flowed through her, seeming to pull her in many directions at once. Only his hands and his touch anchored her in the swirling tempest that seemed to be coming from within her. She breathed his name, squeezing her eyes shut as the feeling crested, flooding her with pleasure. She reached for him, for her port in the storm as the flood lowered, becoming faint ripples as they echoed inside her.

“My precious, you are so beautiful like that,” he praised, moving himself up her body until he lay in the cradle of her thighs. “Can you take more?”

“Please,” she nodded, not opening her eyes.

“Just one moment,” he said, brushing her lips with his, still carrying the musk of her body with them. He moved off of her, pulling down the blankets and coaxing her underneath them. Standing up beside the bed, he finally removed his shirt. Reaching into the small drawer of the table beside the bed, he pulled out a small decorative vial he had placed there in anticipation of this night. He dribbled a small amount of the oil on his length, spreading it liberally over it. The light, sweet scent of the almond oil wafted up as it reacted to the warmth of his skin.  _ It would always remind him of this moment _ , he thought with a smile.

Picking up the small, folded towel he had left there as well, he wiped off his hand and his face before turning to slip the small rectangle of cloth under her hips, just in case. He crawled back to her on the mattress, seeing her eyes flash surprise at the sight of his full, naked arousal. Kissing the tip of her nose as he came near, forcing her eyes away from him. He could see the frisson of nervousness that changed her expression as he resumed his position atop her.

“I don’t know if I can…” she paused meaningfully as he stretched out over her and pulled the covers up around them.

“You can,” he soothed, propping himself up on one elbow as he reached between them to position himself at her entrance. “I’ll go slowly.”

“Okay,” she gnawed at her bottom lip nervously as she looped her arms around his neck.

“Here,” he positioned her leg to hug his hip. “Look into my eyes, my pet, I need to see you.” Bringing his hand back up, he framed her face with both hands. He smiled down at her, giving her a reassuring closed mouth smile. Flexing his hips, he felt her body open taking the head of his erection inside.

“Oh,” she breathed, tensing at the invasion.

“Relax, my precious,” he cooed, kissing the corners of her mouth. “Does it hurt?”

“No, but almost,” she shook her head. “I don’t know if I can.”

“Do you want to wait,” he sighed, offering her a wan smile.

“No but,” a single crystalline tear escaped the corner of her eye. Catching it with his warm lips, he nuzzled into her cheek.

“Shhhhh,” he soothed, kissing her eyelids. “Trust me.” She nodded, taking a deep breath and opening her eyes. “Good girl,” he praised, stroking her cheek. Taking her lips, he flexed, pushing himself deeper inside. She felt like heaven around him as her body hugged him. He felt the flutter of her muscles as she adjusted to having him inside her.

When he finally hit the end of her body, nearly buried completely inside, he paused. “There, see?” He smiled, keeping himself still as he let her adjust, body and mind. “Like you were made to hold me.”

“I was made for you,” she laughed shyly.

“And I waited an awfully long time for you,” He teased back. “So I intend to take my time enjoying it.” She nodded, bringing her lips to meet his. She gave his lower lip a gentle nip, begging for a deeper kiss. He obliged, opened his mouth and allowed her to give him an exploratory kiss. He still smelled of cedar and sandalwood, but with warmth suffusing his body, the faint scent of paper and ink had metamorphosed into something nearer leather with the faintest hint of the warmth of tobacco. He felt more real, just a step closer to alive.

“Is that all?” She asked, pulling back as an instinctual impatience began building inside her.

“No, my pet,” Seonghwa gave a low chuckle. “Just waiting for you.”

“I’m ready,” She rushed to assure him. “What am I supposed to do?”

“So impatient,” he commented, making a blush spread across her cheeks. “Are you so eager for me?”

“Yes,” her reply was quiet but definite. “I want to make you happy.”

“Then you need do nothing more than you already are,” he kissed her cheek softly. “Let me move, let me show you the pleasure a husband shares with his wife.”

“Please,” she ran her foot up the length of one of his legs before arching and squeezing her thighs around his narrow hips. Seonghwa leaned down and kissed along her cheekbone as he began to rock his hips against her. She let out a sigh as he withdrew himself half way and slowly sliding back in.

“Was that alright?” He asked, stroking the side of her face as he looked down at her.

“Yes,” her voice was breathy and slightly surprised. “Keep going.”

“Promise you’ll tell me if I do something you don’t like,” he whispered, bending close to hold her against him as he started to move. He felt her nod, tucking her head in against his shoulder as he found a slow but steady rhythm. Her arms wrapped around him, holding him tenderly as he moved inside her. Beneath her hands she could feel his muscles tense and stretch, the lean line of him moving elegantly against her. His skin was warm and soft but remained dry even as he exerted himself to please them both.

The whole of her filled his senses as she wrapped around him like a vine from below. He could hear the harsh panting of her breath as pleasure began to fill her. Under that he could hear the thrum of her heart beating in her chest, a silent tell he could read as it sped up or skipped a beat when something, some sensation was just right. The temptation to taste her was great, but for this time, this first time they were together, he wanted to pretend he was merely a lover and prove to himself that he could give her that pleasure without the cheating of his bite.

A fine sheen of sweat brought a salty dew to her sweet skin. Kissing her cheek, he let his tongue dart out to taste the flavor of her skin. It held that same intoxicating character that was  _ her _ in her blood. The memory of the taste of her filled his mind and he licked and kissed along the side of her shoulder and neck, tempting himself with the feel of her pulse under his lips and tongue.

A tenseness filled her body and he pulled back to read her expression. Her eyes were closed and she arched against him. He could tell she was close and sped up, pulling her knee higher on his waist to get a better angle into her body. Stroking her cheek, he pulled her into another kiss, his tongue delving into her mouth to match the movement of his body.

“Come for me again, my pet,” he urged, grinding himself into her with each thrust. “Let me feel you this time.” She gasped as he grazed a sensitive spot inside her. Her fingers dug into the flesh of his shoulders, once more clinging to him like a port in the storm that consumed her inside.

“Hwa,” she breathed, tucking her face against his neck, desperate for as much contact with him as possible. That tempest battered her from inside and he was both the cause and the relief. She held her breath but her heart beat in her chest with the desperation of cornered prey. He felt her come apart beneath him, her body trembling both beneath and around him. It pushed him over, filling her body with a ghostly imitation of the seed of life, something he could not give her. 

He breathed in her scent, letting it fill him as relief flowed through him. How he wished his heart could race like hers, that his lungs would sting with the desperation to catch his breath. He wished he could live again for her, be the match to her vivacity. But he could only offer her this blood warmed imitation.

“Hwa,” she breathed, drawing in long deep breaths as her body relaxed around him.

“Yes, my precious?” He whispered, holding his weight off her while remaining close.

“Can we rest for a little while?” She drawled sleepily, her eyes already fluttering. “If there is more, can we do it after a little nap?”

“Yes, my pet,” he soothed, rolling off of her and pulling out as he began to soften. She protested, trying to hold him to her. Kissing her gently, he promised he would only be gone a moment before he slipped out of the bed to retrieve the pitcher and basin from the vanity. The water would be cool, but there was nothing to be done about that now. He set it on the bedside table, dampening the cloth of the towel draped over the rim of the basin on one side. Ringing it out until it was only damp, he wiped himself clean, staining the white of the linen a faint pink. Some was from him he knew, as his cum shared the faint pinkness that his tears did, a small side effect of his liquid diet. Yet some small bit was hers, more streaks than a pink tinge. She protested groggily as he pulled the blankets down to reach her to wash her clean.

“Just a moment,” he promised, slipping the damp cloth between her thighs and over her still slick folds. Satisfied after a few quick swipes of the cloth, he helped her lift her hips, removing the towel he had so thoughtfully placed there. It had absorbed the dampness and the small stain of her virginity, leaving the bed dry and untouched. He covered her back up and tossed the towels somewhere near his discarded clothes before climbing back into the bed beside her.

“Hwa, was I good?” She asked sleepily as she rested her head on his shoulder, curling her body around him as he lay on his back. “You were so still, I’m not sure…”

“My pet, you were perfect,” He ran the tips of his fingers over the warm skin of her arm that draped across his bare chest. “Just rest, sleep a little, then we can eat. You must be hungry by now, but rest first. I have asked so much of you today, my little wife.”

***

She stirred in the bed beside him, letting out a little moan as she reached out for him, not fully awake.

“I’m here, my pet,” Seonghwa murmured from where he sat beside her.

“Hwa, weren’t you tired?” She asked, lifting herself onto her elbow, letting the blankets slip from her shoulders.

“Oh to be capable of true sleep again,” he sighed, closing the book on his lap. “If I could sleep I would gladly sleep in your arms. Alas, it is another thing I cannot do.”

“I’m sorry,” she quickly sat up, pulling the sheet up to cover her chest as she scooted nearer to him. “You must have been bored waiting for me.”

“Not at all,” he shook his head and leaned over to press a kiss to the side of her head. “I caught up on a little reading.”

“City of Ladies?” She questioned, catching sight of the familiar cover.

“I thought I might try catching up to where you are and refresh my memory,” he gave a little self-deprecating laugh. “Are you ready to eat, my pet?”

“Yes,” she put a hand over her stomach. “Do we have food already?”

“It came not long after you fell asleep,” he replied, pushing himself out of the bed and pulling his shirt on again. Making his way over to the side table near the fireplace, he removed the cloche from atop one of the portions, revealing a plate of still slightly warm food. She got up, putting on her shift and following him to the seating area in front of the crackling fireplace.

“Please sit,” he gestured to the long chaise lounge, asking her to sit down on one end as he took the other. Laying the plate in his lap, he brought around the small side table, setting it in front of her before transferring the plate there for her.

“What do we have,” she asked, looking eagerly at the food on the plate before her. “Are you going to eat something as well?”

“You mean from the plates?” He clarified as he handed her a fork from the nearby tray.

“Yes,” she confirmed, accepting the small implement.

“It would be a waste,” He sighed, bringing his leg up onto the seat so that he could face her, watch her eat. “It does nothing for me and I can’t really taste it. But, perhaps I could feed a little from you after you have had your fill.”

“Of course,” she nodded quickly, considering offering to let him feed first but the offer never left her lips as he motioned towards the plate of food for her.

“Tell me about the food,” he prompted, holding an elegant hand under his chin as he watched her.

“It seems we have some veal, asparagus, celeriac in cream, and some bread,” she said poking around at the plate of food.

“Where are you going to start?” He asked with a smile, enjoying simply watching her poke at the offerings as her shift slid off one shoulder.

“Perhaps a little of the veal?” She decided, skewering a slice on the tines. Bringing it to her mouth, she considered the taste and the texture, the experience of eating it before, she swallowed. “It’s good, tender and soft without being fatty, perhaps a little under seasoned. The grain of the meat is fine enough, it nearly melts before you even chew it.”

“How did her ladyship season it?” He questioned, somewhat testing the discretion of her taste.

“Salt, pepper, onions, and butter,” she decided after another bite. “Oh and perhaps chives in the butter.”

“You said it was under seasoned,” he commented. “What is it missing?”

“A bit more salt,” she said, then paused in her consideration. “Garlic would have a better harmony with the meat and I think it could have been cooked just a little less.”

“What about the rest of it,” he prompted.

“Lets see,” she looked at the plate, deciding to taste a bit of the celeriac. “Mmm, the béchamel is quite good and smooth. The proportions of white pepper and nutmeg were quite good and the root isn’t overcooked.”

“I wish I could taste it all with you,” He laughed, leaning on the curve of the back of the chaise. “But even when I was a man, I think I did not have so refined a palate as you do.”

“Do you want to know the secret?” She leaned over, whispering conspiratorially.

“Please,” he whispered back, eyes sparkling as he leaned forward.

“I used to cook for my father, or at least I helped,” she confessed. “Our cook was very insistent that one must be able to taste not only what is on the plate but what ought to be.”

“I see you were a very good student,” he laughed. “Your father was very lucky to have a daughter like you.”

“I believe the fortune was mutual,” she confessed, thinking of how, even as a child, she had never wanted for a book that he had not found for her. He had poured money into her education even when others in the family scolded him for it.  _ The only thing that is truly useless is an empty head _ , he had replied once to his brother when he had again sighed and questioned why he did such things for a girl.

They finished the meal with her pausing to describe what the dish was and what she liked or disliked, entertaining Seonghwa as he watched, enjoying her food vicariously in a way he hadn’t been able to in years. Taking the plate and the table out of her way, he returned to sit beside her again. She turned to face him, reaching out to take his hand as he came near.

“Will you come sit in my lap?” Seonghwa asked, pulling her towards him.

“Did you want to… again?” She blushed, not quite knowing what to call what they had done a few hours ago.

“Always,” he half laughed, half sighed. “But in the state I am in at the moment, I can’t.”

“Why?” She asked, sitting on his muscular thighs.

“Let’s just say that I’ve used a bit of my energy on you,” he smiled. She reached out to touch his neck and found it barely warmer than the room. “My body can’t respond until I feed again.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I had exhausted you so,” she apologized, shadows of regret flickering behind her eyes.

“Don’t apologize,” he put his fingers over her lips. “It is something I would happily spend the very last sparks of life I possess doing. Thankfully, I just need to feed a bit more before I can be with you like that again.”

“Can I feed you, at least a little?” She offered, moving slightly in his lap to expose her neck to him. “Even if you don’t lie with me again, I would like to give a little of myself to you.”

“You would give me that, when you have already given me so much?” He smiled, turning her so that she straddled his hips as he leaned back against the tall curved arm.

“Please,” she nodded, leaning forward and bracing herself on the chaise behind him. Seonghwa’s hands went to her ribs, holding her as she leaned close.

“You aren’t too tired?” He asked even as he brushed some of her now messy curls from her shoulder.

“No, please,” she insisted. “I want you to feed from me.”

The heat of her body radiated against him. She smelled inviting and was already warming him more than the fire that flickered in the hearth only a couple of meters away. The living heat always felt different to him. The warmth of a living body was always a comfort, but hers carried with it the special intoxication of her scent and part of him would swear there was something else. His hands tingled where they touched her, even through the fabric of the shift and his thighs burned against the brush of her bare skin.

Tucking his face into the crook of her neck, he nuzzled, looking for just the right spot. His lips brushed her pulse and he heard her breath catch in reaction. Pleasure coursed through him, even as his body did not react. He wanted her again, wanted to please her, to hear her breath his name again. His hands went to her hips, pulling her against him, grinding her damp heat over his softness. The fabric of the shirt and shift separated them. With a huff of frustration, he pulled the linen over her head, tossing it on a nearby chair. She startled, moving to cover herself with her hands as she leaned back. He did the same with his shirt before pulling her against him again.

“Don’t hide, precious,” he insisted, guiding her hands back to the soft velvet of the chaise behind him. “You have nothing to be ashamed of with me.”

She nodded, letting her body press against him again. He guided her hips to rub against him, hoping to pleasure both of them even as he remained limp, waiting for the rush of warmth and life her blood would provide. His lips found her neck again, finding the pulse and licking it as her heart rate increased in anticipation of the pleasure to come.

“Are you ready?” He asked gently as his hands wandered over her bare back.

“Yes, please let me feed you,” she sighed, baring her neck to him. Holding her head and shoulders with tender hands, he sank his fangs into her flesh, feeling the rush of pleasure that came with the blood. She tasted as sweet as he remembered and the thrum of her heart against his chest was an almost painful pleasure. As her blood filled him, his body responded and his erection filled and grew where it was trapped between them. She moved her hips, seeking the friction she could get that added to the pleasure rippling through her from the bite.

When he had taken just enough to be full and warm for her, he closed the bites, instead licking and sucking along the skin of her neck and shoulder, taking in the bare hint of her flavor they offered. As impatience rose in him, he stood, carrying both of them back to the bed with quick strides. Depositing her on the bed, he took a moment to admire the soft curves of her body as she lay spread on the edge of the bed.

“You’re certain you aren’t too sore?” He asked, brushing a finger along her inner thigh.

“Please, I want you again,” she sighed, giving the barest of shakes to her head.

“Would you trust me enough to try something?” He solicited, an idea niggling at the back of his mind. She nodded, waiting to hear what he would ask of her. “Sit in the middle of the bed facing the headboard and wait for me.” Rolling over, she did as he asked, sitting on her heels near the pillows with her eyes on the decorations of the fine headboard. Seonghwa pulled out the vial again, wetting himself enough to ensure she would feel only pleasure as he entered her.

“Here, put your hands like this,” He instructed, putting her hands on the intricately carved headboard and coaxing her up onto her knees. Coming up behind her, he curled around her as he positioned himself at her entrance. In this position he could please her with his hands as he moved and could feed from her as the pleasure of her orgasm peaked. He had shown both of them that he could make love as a gentle husband and now he would pleasure her as only one of his kind could.

He kissed along the back of her neck, burying his face in the nest of curls to take in the scent of her. Roses still lingered there as well, but it had faded over the hours. He held her hips with one hand as he slid inside her, moving slowly to give her the chance to voice any discomfort. She let out a sigh as he filled her, letting her head drop forward as she enjoyed how he stretched her body.

“So good, my pet,” he praised, making a tentative move inside her. She shivered at the sensation, her fingers gripping the headboard more securely. When she showed only signs of pleasure, he let himself move more vigorously. His hips drove into hers and he listened for that change of breath he knew would come when he found that sensitive spot inside her. A gentle hand on her shoulder moved her slightly, letting him find a new angle. The sound of her breath catching in her throat told him that he had found it. 

With a smile, he snapped his hips as he held her still and was rewarded with the sound of her moaning his name. The hand that was not holding the headboard moved to the front of her body, fondling its way down over her stomach and to her clit. He made slow circles around the little nub, occasionally pausing in the motion to stroke along her lips with two fingers framing his erection as he continued to move.

She shivered under his touch. He seemed to know exactly how to move and for a moment she wondered if he could read her mind as he responded so swiftly to her every twitch and sigh. The way his fingers worked between her thighs sent sparks through her like flint as it strikes steel.

“Hwa,” she shivered, turning to try and face him, wanting to see him.

“I’m here precious,” he lulled, pressing his body closer to her. Pressing a kiss to her cheek, he enjoyed the way the heat of her blush tickled his lips.

“Thank you for choosing me,” she murmured, pressing into his kiss.

“It was never a choice, my pet,” he scolded with good humor. “I knew you were supposed to be mine the moment I saw you.”

Inside her she could feel the tension build, almost like two different pleasures were dancing inside her. They brushed and touched as ephemeral as two crossing winds as they combined to swirl together before passing or simply dying. 

He raised the storm inside her, feeling the racing of her heart and the drag of her breath as she filled her lungs. Even if he couldn’t live for her, he could shelter her and protect the life inside her that seemed so precarious and yet vivacious. With his body he stoked the flame inside her that warmed him in every sense of the word.

Feeling her quiver and arch, he knew she was getting close. He increased his pace, pressing closer as he brought his lips to her neck, preparing to bite at just the right moment. She groaned, squeezing her eyes shut tightly as the sensations grew overwhelming. Feeling the caress of his lips, she tilted her head, opening for him and reaching to thread her fingers through his dark locks.

“Come for me my pet,” he urged. “Let me taste your pleasure.” She pressed him closer as her legs began to tremble. Teasing her clit, he felt the first clench of her muscles around him and sank his fangs into the side of her neck. The warm gush of her blood filling him drove him over the precipice as well. He held them both still as she felt the surge of pleasure fill her. He twitched inside her, filling her body as it squeezed around him. Her thudding heart slowly stuttered as he drank from her, making the bliss ricochet through her body seemingly endlessly.

When he finally closed the wound of his bite she was left weak in his arms. Her fingers clinging numbly to his warm limbs. Withdrawing from her body, he carefully laid her down on the bed, taking note of the two perfectly round drops of blood that had splattered on the brocade cover of the bed. He was usually not so careless as to let any blood escape his feeding, but the rush of pleasure had distracted him.

Leaving her tired body on the bed, he got up to retrieve the towel he had used earlier to clean them both. Dampening the cloth again, he wiped away the two rivulets of blood that had dripped down across her chest then cleaned between her legs.

“Cold,” she murmured quietly as he touched her.

“The water?” He asked, dabbing tenderly to clean what he had left in her.

“No, the room feels cold,” she sighed, curling a little in on herself.

“I hadn’t noticed,” he apologized, trying to feel the temperature of the room. It seemed the same to him, but hot and cold meant less to him. Satisfied that she was clean enough, he got off the bed and went to the hearth to add a few more logs to the fire. It was still burning, but perhaps less robustly than before. On the way back he picked up her shift and his shirt. He helped her slip it on before putting his shirt on and tucking them both beneath the covers.

She curled up beside him, laying her head on his shoulder as she closed her eyes. He felt so warm she would have almost sworn he was alive. But his chest did not rise and fall under her arm except when he turned to breathe her in, taking in the essence of her scent as she cuddled close. Beneath her ear no heart beat even as the warmth of her blood trickled through his veins. Her breathing settled into the long, slow exhalations of sleep and he could hear her heart slow as it beat against the side of his chest. It seemed a little light, ever so slightly weaker as she drifted off.  _ It must be my imagination, _ he decided as he nestled his head against hers and closed his eyes. He may not be able to sleep, but the comfort of her in his arms made him feel restful. There was nothing more pressing and nowhere else he would rather have been. 


End file.
